


the benefits of corner tables

by orphan_account



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: F/M, Like, NSFW, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Really nsfw, public
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 03:54:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8829463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: For once you are glad that Takao’s eccentric best friend prefers corner tables when you three visit cafés together (due to him insisting he dislikes being pointed at and whispered about in public), because you are not sure that you would be able to maintain your composure if Takao keeps up what he is doing with his fingers. (originally an ask// crossposted from tumblr)





	

**Author's Note:**

> steamy. really steamy. if you've got that down, go ahead!

“Don’t move,” Takao whispers into your ear slyly, and that is the only warning you receive before his hand snakes its way up your thigh to disappear underneath your skirt. You inhale sharply, stiffening when you feel his nails drag across your skin gently, but otherwise make no indication that anything has changed. Midorima Shintarou sits across the table from you two, eyebrows furrowed and immersed entirely in an assignment he is completing on his laptop. For once you are glad that Takao’s eccentric best friend prefers corner tables when you three visit cafés together (due to him insisting he dislikes being pointed at and whispered about in public), because you are not sure that you would be able to maintain your composure if Takao keeps up what he is doing with his fingers.

You bite down on your lip, inhibiting the gasp that rises to your lips as he continues to slowly, _slowly_ ghost his middle finger over your sensitive clitoris through the fabric of your panties. You don’t know what is worse, the fact that he is being so _tantalizing_ about his actions, or the fact that he is _actually_ touching you up in public.

He is wearing his cheekiest smirk, and you can see his ashen hazel eyes observe your steadily deteriorating composure from the corner of his eyes. A partition partially obscures the rest of the café from your view, but still you feel your cheeks heat up as you listen to the sound of Midorima, who is sitting barely two feet away from you two, type away on his laptop, and to the sound of the hustle-and-bustle of the busy café at _lunch_ hour, no less.

Takao presses down on your clit slightly, and you have to clench your fists in order to prevent yourself from making an undignified noise. You would admonish him, but you are afraid that you might not be able to resist yourself if you opened your mouth at all. He is rubbing gradual circles onto your hypersensitive skin, now, and you swallow deeply, knowing your cheeks must be a terrific shade of red.

Apparently Takao is dissatisfied by your lack of response, because he quite suddenly increases the pace of his circling – your eyes widen and you are forced to cover your mouth with your hands to diminish the gasp that escapes your lips. Slightly disconcerted, Midorima looks up at you, and you, flushing, try to pass off the noise as a cough. Thankfully, the irate green-haired boy returns to his work a second later, and the mischievous Takao sitting next to you cannot help but emanate a hearty chuckle at your expense.

“Oh, [Name]-chan,” he murmurs cheerfully, going so far as to rest his chin on his free hand after propping his elbow onto the table lazily; meanwhile, your legs quiver under the table as his fingers almost viciously massage patterns onto your clit over your now soaked panties, “you’re really very cute…”

You press your lips together, wanting to respond bitingly, but somehow not managing it at all – this is especially because Takao chooses that very moment to cease his relentless rubbing and pull your panties down to your mid-thigh carefully, exposing your sex to the cold draft underneath the table. You flush, if possible, a deeper red, but still cannot find it in yourself to ask him to stop, because you honestly do not _want_ him to. It felt ridiculously _sexy_ to be doing something so crass in such a public place, and you can’t help but want him to keep going.

Takao tugs on your panties meaningfully, and you know he means to slip them off; despite yourself, you lift your butt slightly off of the bench and allow him to pull them down. You carefully help him peel them over your knees and off of your feet. Despite your situation, you scowl when Takao grins mischievously and stuffs the fabric into the pocket of his jeans.

But you don’t have a moment to think, because his hands are back on your thigh now, this time moving relentlessly towards your heated core. The heel of his palm presses down against your clitoris – you make a muffled noise and manage to pass it off as a sneeze as a thousand volts of electricity travels from that point on up your spine – and his middle finger sinks easily between your soaked folds to penetrate your entrance deeply. He strokes the inner walls of your vagina as he pulls his finger out, and adds his index finger into the mix upon re-entry. You are actually biting down on your hand now, to prevent yourself from gasping his name out loud.

Mercilessly, he begins to rub the heel of his palm against your clitoris as he pushes his fingers in and out of your heated sex. You instinctively grind your hips in time with his ministrations, and Takao’s sly grin widens upon seeing your state of disrepair. He alternates between scissoring you gently, to rotating his fingers in circles inside you, and pumping his digits in and out so expertly and so _rapidly_ that you wonder it is a miracle that you are managing to stay quiet even with the hand muffling your sounds.

If Midorima had looked up over his laptop at that instant, he would have instantly figured out what was going on because your arched back is pressing against the bench, and even a blind man might have figured out by your contorted expression that you are experiencing _some_ sort of sexual pleasure somehow. On top of that, you are wriggling about as your hips grind in time with Takao’s skillful fingers… all of these sensations combined leads you to come closer to the precipice of your orgasm much, much quicker than you ever have before.

Just when you think you are about to cum – yes, right _there_ in public with _everyone_ watching you – Takao stops moving his fingers. You almost groan in dissent, but before you do anything drastic Takao bumps his fingers against the spoon on the table; it clatters to the floor loudly, and he apologizes sheepishly before ducking under the table to retrieve it.

When you feel his other hand on your knee gently pushing your legs apart, your jaw actually drops open in flustered shock – but you are quick to close it again because he begins thrusting in and out of you with renewed vigor, using the more favorable angle to his advantage and pumping his fingers in deeper and faster; almost at the same time, his lips close around your clitoris and sucks _hard_ on the skin, pressing his tongue against it in such a way that your toes curl and you almost feel _faint_ with the pleasure of it all.

You don’t last long under this intense development, and you come in a few seconds, whimpering ever so softly into the hand against your lips as you finally arrive at your long-awaited orgasm. Spent, you fall back against the bench, breathing heavily, and a satisfied Takao – eyes alight with mischief and grinning – emerges from underneath the table with the spoon.

Finally, you are able to scowl at your boyfriend, because _what the hell had he been thinking,_ Midorima is _right there._ Takao shrugs and continues to grin cheekily, nonchalantly wiping his fingers clean with a tissue from the dispenser. You flush again, and try to hastily return your disheveled state into something more appropriate for the public eye – when your hands reach your skirt, you raise your eyebrows meaningfully at Takao, silently asking him to give you your panties back.

Much to your infuriation, your naughty boyfriend only shakes his head mischievously, mouthing to you: _“You’ll have to earn it back, [Name]-chan~”_

Frowning, you adjust your skirt as best as you can and sit back in your seat, devising up several sordid and lewd means to somehow reach the pocket of his jeans.

**Author's Note:**

> phew... that was sordid. thank you for reading!


End file.
